


Allegiance

by KopyKunoichi



Series: The Mandalorian Chronicles [2]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23435404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KopyKunoichi/pseuds/KopyKunoichi
Summary: Din Djarin and Cara Dune return to Nevarro to confront Moff Gideon, seeking to bring a decisive end to their conflict, and gain retribution for what he has taken from them. They enlist the aide of NRI agent, Brice Riddick, and a flotilla of allied ships prepared to face off against Gideon's Imperial forces. But the Moff has a few trump cards yet to be played in this high stakes sabaac game. With the fate of many hanging in the balance, Din will be forced to make a choice between his proud heritage and his uncertain future.New friends (and enemies) will be made, loyalties questioned, and secrets unveiled in Book Two of The Mandalorian Chronicles, Allegiance.
Relationships: Cara Dune/Din Djarin, Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), The Armorer (The Mandalorian TV) & Paz Vizla, The Armorer/Paz Vizla
Series: The Mandalorian Chronicles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685857
Comments: 38
Kudos: 93





	1. Mandalorian Centric Timeline

To help all of you get your bearings concerning the relevant events leading up to our story, I have made a timeline for you to reference. The events on this timeline are focused on the history of Mandalore and our main characters, but there are also famous events that occur in the Star Wars continuity to help give perspective. I have omitted a few details that have yet to be revealed in the coming story, but I will give you a second copy of this after the epilogue with the missing information filled in. 

* * *

**Star Wars Mandalorian Centric Timeline**

Key:

BBY = Before the Battle of Yavin

ABY = After the Battle of Yavin

Regular font = DLF canon events and dates

Underlined font = canon events with unknown dates (which I have assigned a date to, as near to canon as I can estimate) 

Bold font = **original content, unique to my story**

* * *

*41 BBY - The child, “Baby Yoda” (AKA **Bean** ) is born

...

*32 BBY - Boba Fett is cloned from Jango Fett. Anakin Skywalker (9) is taken by Obi-Wan Kenobi (25) as his padawan.

...

*29 BBY - Din Djarin is born. Paz Vizsla is born.

*28 BBY - Din is raised by his parents.

*27 BBY -  Din is raised by his parents. Jadzia Saxon is born. 

*26 BBY -  Din is raised by his parents. 

*25 BBY -  Din is raised by his parents. 

*24 BBY - Din is raised by his parents. Carasynthia Dune is born. 

*23 BBY -  Din is raised by his parents. 

*22 BBY - Separatist Movement and Clone Wars begin. Jango Fett is killed by Jedi Master Mace Windu.  Din is raised by his parents. 

*21 BBY - New Mandalorians under Satine Kryze are threatened by Death Watch. Baby Yoda turns 20.  Din Djarin’s homeworld is attacked by Separatists. His parents are killed. Din is saved by Death Watch at **8 years old.**

*20 BBY - Darth Maul takes over Mandalore with the help of Death Watch. Pre Vizsla is killed. Maul murders Satine Kryze. Palpatine (Sidious) defeats Maul and throws him in prison.  Din is raised in the fighting corps. 

*19 BBY - Gar Saxon and the super commandos free Maul. Bo-Katan Kryze convinces the Jedi to help her oust Maul. The Galactic Republic conducts the Siege of Mandalore. Order 66 ends the siege. Maul flees. The Republic is reorganized into the Galactic Empire. The Clone Wars end. Gar Saxon becomes Imperial Viceroy of Mandalore. Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa are born.

*18 BBY -  Din continues his training in the fighting corps. 

*17 BBY -  Din continues his training in the fighting cops. 

*16 BBY -  Din continues his training in the fighting corps. 

*15 BBY -  Din continues his training in the fighting corps. 

*14 BBY - Din continues his training in the fighting cops.

*13 BBY -  Din turns 16 and  takes the Oath. His first armor is forged. **He becomes a member of the Nameless,** **concealing his face to everyone and leaving his old name behind.**

*12 BBY - **Din works for the Nameless under the command of Gar Saxon, an Imperial proxy.**

*11 BBY - Baby Yoda turns 30. **Din works for the Nameless under the command of Gar Saxon, an Imperial proxy.**

*10 BBY - **Din works for the Nameless under the command of Gar Saxon, an Imperial proxy.**

*9 BBY - **Din turn 20 and works for the Nameless under the command of Gar Saxon, an Imperial proxy.**

*8 BBY - **Din works for the Nameless under the command of Gar Saxon, an Imperial proxy.**

*7 BBY - **Din works for the Nameless under the command of Gar Saxon, an Imperial proxy.**

*6 BBY - **Din works for the Nameless under the command of Gar Saxon, an Imperial proxy.**

*5 BBY - **Due to certain events, Din parts ways with the Nameless, and strikes out on his own.**

*4 BBY - Din turns 25. He joins Ranzar Malk’s crew as a mercenary for hire. Cara turns 20.

*3 BBY - Maul and the darksaber are discovered on Malachar. Ahsoka Tano duels Vader.  Din works as a mercenary. 

*2 BBY - Rebel Alliance is formed. Gar Saxon is killed.  Din works as a mercenary. 

*1 BBY - Bo-Katan Kryze becomes The Mandalore and takes possession of the Darksaber. Baby Yoda turns 40. **Palpatine sends Gideon to eradicate the Mandalorian people in the Great Purge. Din leaves Malk’s crew to search for survivors.**

*0 BBY - Alderaan is destroyed. Death Star is destroyed at the Battle of Yavin. Obi-Wan dies at 57.  Cara joins the Rebellion at 24. Din turns 30 and  finds the Covert. He is selected as the one who may move freely. Din begins work as a bounty hunter.

*1 ABY -  Din works as a bounty hunter. 

*2 ABY -  Din works as a bounty hunter. 

*3 ABY - Battle of Hoth. Luke trains with Yoda.  Din works as a bounty hunter. 

*4 ABY - Fett is thrown into the pit of the Sarlaac and presumed dead at age 37. Yoda dies at 900. The Battle of Endor takes place. The Empire falls and the New Republic is born. Mon Mothma becomes Chancellor.  Din works as a bounty hunter. 

*5 ABY - Imperial remnant flees to the unknown regions (except for Moff Gideon).  Din works as a bounty hunter. 

*6 ABY -  Din works as a bounty hunter. Cara defects from the New Republic special forces at 30. 

*7 ABY -  Din works as a bounty hunter. 

*8 ABY - Din works as a bounty hunter.

*9 ABY - Din Djarin meets a small green alien on Arvala-7 and decides to make a career change. Baby Yoda turns 50. 

*10 ABY - **“Belonging” takes place at the beginning of the year. Fett is killed by Din at 43. "Allegiance" takes place. Din turns 40.**


	2. Prologue

The thrum of the  _ Razor Crest’s _ hyperdrive engine was the only sound to be heard - save for the rushing of blood in Din’s ears. He was lying on Cara’s bunk atop the blankets, the room comfortably dim, but not so much so that he could not clearly make out her features where she lay beside him. He found himself grateful once again that he had chosen to make her bed large enough to accommodate two people with ease. 

Din closed his eyes, inhaling the fragrance of Cara’s freshly washed hair. Everything about her was intoxicating to him: her scent, the way her skin felt under his fingers, the warmth of her body where it pressed against his. He felt like a man who had been stumbling in a desert for days, and finally found a spring of sweet, cold, water. He couldn’t drink deeply enough, and the more he drank, the more he thirsted. 

There was a part of him - the dominant part of him, if he were being honest - that just wanted to say “frag it” and make love to her right then. Forget about the bounty hunters. Forget about Gideon. Forget about going back to Nevarro. Forget about his Mandalorian family who were dead because of his blunder. He knew that it would be a simple thing to coax her into giving in to him. Just a few more deep kisses, a wandering hand, a well-placed nudge of his body against hers, and her already crumbling defenses would shatter. He could lose himself in her love - for a few hours anyway. 

But it wouldn’t change anything. When he surfaced from their night of passion, they would be that much closer to their looming confrontation with Gideon, his people would still be dead, and she would have given him everything of herself without knowing the full truth of who he was. True, she said that it didn’t matter. She had reassured him that she wouldn’t reject him no matter what he said. But there was still a chance she wouldn’t be as forgiving as she assumed she would be - and he would not fault her for it.

He had already compromised by revealing his face to her before he told her he would, though that was hardly avoidable. He had slipped further when he had kissed her, touching her body with a wanton recklessness that surprised even him. And then he had accepted her “proposal” and became her betrothed! Every step they took closer to each other would make it more difficult for her to refuse him, even if she wanted to. Now, if what he had to say really did disgust her or cause her to question her decision to pledge herself to him, she might be reluctant to do so because she had promised she would stay with him no matter what. 

Before they took one more step toward a future together, she needed to know what lay in his past. He couldn’t run from this anymore. He needed it out there, the same as she had needed to confide in him when they were on Coruscant. She deserved nothing less than absolute honesty from him, and he was determined to give it to her without any sugar coating. 

She stretched out beside him, her cheek resting on his shoulder as she drew lazy circles with her fingertips into the fabric of his shirt. He doubted she realized how much the tiny movement aroused him, but he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. 

_ Where do I even start?  _ he asked himself.  _ At the beginning - just like you told her that night in Riddick’s house. _

He took a deep breath, his chest feeling tight with trepidation, “I was born on Sundari. The planet, not the capital of Mandalore,” he clarified.

“Isn’t that a mining world in the Mandalore Sector, near Garos?” she asked, mercifully ceasing the activity of her fingers and resting her palm on his stomach. 

“Yes. Our exports were primarily technological. We got most of our food from Garos, but there were always disputes between us. Apart from that, our world was mostly free of conflict. The miners weren’t soldiers - just hard workers. And the people who refined the ore into tradeworthy goods were even less inclined to fight. We weren’t a warrior race, even if we did sometimes have conflicts.

So when the CIS came in to take our goods by force, we were unable to mount much of a resistance. It was early in the morning when they struck our city. My parents took me and ran through the streets, but everywhere we turned, Separatist battle droids were cutting down our people. They didn’t spare a man, woman, or child they encountered. 

My parents took me to a storage cellar. My father kissed me and then my mother held me tight one last time and told me she loved me. Then Papa lowered me into the cellar and shut the doors. A few seconds later an explosion went off, close enough that the doors bounced on their hinges.”

He paused, swallowing thickly. The metallic taste of scorched carbon and ashes filled his mouth, causing him to over-salivate to clear it from his tongue. Cara waited patiently, pressing a comforting kiss to his arm. He scraped his tongue on his teeth a few times and pushed down the acrid taste that was more a memory than anything else. 

“When the doors opened, there was a battle droid leaning over me. It aimed its arm cannon at my face, and I just cowered there, waiting to die. But then a blaster bolt hit it in the head, and then another. It fell down and someone else took its place. I grew up on the edge of the Mandalorian sector, so I knew exactly what he was. But we never really had very many dealings with the Mandalorians. We traded with them sometimes for raw materials, but they didn’t often come to Sundari. But there he was, just staring down at me through that emotionless helmet. 

He held out his hand and gestured for me to take it. I did and he pulled me up out of the cellar, keeping me close to him as he scanned the area. They were everywhere, shooting droids down all around me. Then he picked me up and took off with his jetpack. I remember looking over his shoulder as my parents, my home, my city...they just got smaller and smaller as he flew me up to a transport ship. Then the door closed and it was all gone.”

He paused again, staring up at the bottom of the shelving above them.

“Did you ever go back?” she asked.

“No. Not even when I was an adult and I could choose to go by myself.”

“One thing I never understood - why were the Mandalorians even there to begin with?”

“It was Death Watch that saved me.”

“Death Watch? The terrorist group?”

“When they found out that the CIS was raiding worlds so close to their back door, they decided to do something about it. Pre Vizsla was their leader - you probably know - and he seemed to have a particular animosity with the Separatists. It was years later that I found out it was because he had once worked with them and they had a bad falling out. So it might have been as much about evening the score as it was keeping their territory from being overrun. I was too little to understand the politics then - all I knew was my parents were gone and I had a new family.”

“Were they kind to you?”

Din pondered that, “Most were. Death Watch was a rough group. They were all fighters to their very core, so there was always a lot of violence in the camp. It’s how they worked through stuff. It was all very new to me, because my people weren’t like that. But there was also something sort of simple about the way they handled things. They fought hard when they trained. They fought hard when there was a dispute. But no matter how bad the fights were, they never killed each other or held a grudge. Two guys who had just beat the shit out of each other would be laughing and drinking together five minutes later. When they got really bored, they’d use droids as target practice. Then they would fix ‘em up so they could shoot them again later.”

“Interesting. I guess your issues with droids goes further than just what happened with your parents.”

“Yeah, well one time when we were camped out on Carlac, there was a crazy night when a whole bunch of those droids banded together and attacked the troops. They weren’t all battle droids either. Astromech droids. Pit droids. Protocol droids. It didn’t matter what they were programmed for, they just up and turned on the Mandalorians and started shooting at them. After that, we destroyed them for good and never put them back together again. I was glad about that - it meant I didn’t have to help Borz fix them anymore. I hated that job.

Anyway, they were a rough family to grow up with, but they were still a family. And they treated me like one of them. I wasn’t a slave or a servant. I had things I was responsible for, but so did everyone. And I was learning all kinds of things. How to shoot. How to fight. How to fix things. How to cook. How to treat injuries.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna stop ya there and say you learned how to heat food up - not cook.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, that’s probably more accurate. But I did learn a lot about what was edible and what wasn’t on a lot of planets - does that count?”

“I suppose so,” she smiled up at him.

Fighting the urge to taste those beautifully bowed lips again, he cleared his throat and moved forward.

“Pre didn’t spend a lot of time with me, but we all heard his speeches over and over again about how Death Watch were the last true Mandalorans. He wanted to restore Mandalore’s honor and proud warrior heritage. He thought that the pacifist Kryze regime was an affront to all Mandalorians. I didn’t care about the politics though, I just wanted to learn how to fight so I could get revenge for my family. 

Borz was the closest thing I had to a friend at that time. He was the one who found me on Sundari. There were other foundlings with the group, but they were all much older than me - teenagers. I was too soft and unskilled to participate in any of the skirmishes, so I always had to stay back with the ships. Borz started teaching me to fly right away though, so if I ever needed to make a quick getaway, or an emergency pick-up, I could handle it. We spent months moving from place to place, fighting the CIS and anyone who threatened Mandalorian space. Pre never gave up on uniting Mandalore under House Vizsla though.

Finally, he had an opportunity to do so. He partnered with some new guy who had a lot of connections. He agreed to help Pre take Mandalore. I never saw him, but the others always talked about him in half-whispers, like he was someone they feared.”

“That must have been the Sith apprentice Riddick told us about - Maul?”

“Probably. Pre left the main group a lot after that. I didn’t pay attention to what he was planning. Bo-Katan, his second-in-command, always went with him. I didn’t find out until later that the Duchess who Pre wanted to execute was her own sister. 

Eventually, we left our camp on Zabran and finally went to Mandalore. I don’t know what I was expecting; certainly not a barren wasteland that stretched as far as the eye could see in any direction. I had to stay back with the big transports again, while the rest of the warriors ousted the allied criminal syndicates who had taken over the capital. They were successful and by the time night fell, I was finally allowed to land. Borz told me to stay in the hangar with the ships until they could get things settled down - there was still some unrest.

Pre declared himself the ruler of Mandalore the next day, but then something went wrong. They said that the Duchess, Satine Kryze, had murdered him, but I always thought that was a cover up. In any case, Pre was dead, Satine was dead, and they weren’t the only ones. Borz was killed too, and some guy named Almec became Prime Minister. Death Watch fractured. Bo-Katan took her Night Owls and left. But while Death Watch was no longer, the people of Mandalore were in favor of returning to their old traditions again. So the government immediately began working on training up a new generation of warriors, with mostly former Death Watch members instructing the fighting corps. The facility we trained at was outside the capital though - less government oversight meant the instructors could make their training as cold and brutal as they wanted to - and they did. Even though I was only nine, they allowed me to join.”

“Sounds like it was a rough time for you.”

Din shrugged his shoulders against the mattress, “Yes. But I thrived on it. When the Republic began the Siege of Mandalore, I was still only ten years old. Some of the older cadets were allowed to don gear and help fight, but I wasn’t big enough or skilled enough yet to join them. The fighting all took place in Sundari. It didn’t last very long, but the political atmosphere had changed across the board by the time it was done. Prime Minister Almec was killed in the Siege, and the Republic put Bo-Katan Kryze in charge as Regent. But then, just when the Republic forces left, the powers shifted from the Galactic Republic to the Galactic Empire. The clones answered solely to the Emperor, and he demanded that Mandalore bend the knee. Bo-Katan refused, and Clan Saxon betrayed her. Gar Saxon was made Viceroy of Mandalore by the Empire. 

I was still training in the fighting corps during all this. It wasn’t as influenced by the Empire as the academy in the capital, but there was still a lot of oversight that we didn’t have before. When I was eleven, we got a new recruit - Paz Vizsla. He and I were the same age. The fighting corps was a mix of foundlings and the less desirable members of the big clan families. Paz was Pre Vizsla’s sister-son, but everyone knew his father was not her husband. Illegitimacy outside of marriage is not always a big deal on Mandalore, but adultery is another matter. It brings dishonor on you and any children you conceive from it. Even though his step-father officially claimed him to save face, Paz had a black stain on his name from birth. The family treated him differently. When he finally learned it was because he was actually a bastard, he developed some...behavioral issues. So they packed him off to the fighting corps instead of the academy, hoping he’d get some discipline beat into him. We had a run-in when he first came to the training facility and after that, we were constant and bitter rivals. 

I didn’t know everything about his childhood back then - just that he was an angry bastard from Clan Vizsla, which was pretty much an accurate description of every Vizsla I had ever met. I got to know him better later, but for years, it was just the two of us trying to outdo each other. We competed for top marks in everything. There wasn’t a single area of study or training that didn’t have our names in the top two slots at some point. We both wanted the same thing when it was all over - a place with Nameless.”

He paused, taking a moment to judge her reaction. She had said earlier that she was familiar with the term and knew what it meant to be a member of that elite group of warriors. When she offered no reaction or comment, he pressed on.

“A young Mandalorian can take the trials as young as sixteen, though some wait longer until they have had more time for their bodies to mature. I had hit puberty a bit earlier than some of the other boys, which gave me an edge. But then Paz grew five inches and added almost twenty pounds of muscle in one year. I rarely beat him hand-to-hand anymore, and he was showing promise in other areas. Spots didn’t open up that often in Nameless, so when one did right as we were first eligible to take the trials, we couldn’t sign up fast enough. No sixteen-year-olds had ever been accepted into an order as elite as Nameless.

Gar Saxon came to administer the advancement tests himself. He had the final say in where we would be assigned. We competed against students who were all older than us, and we eliminated them one by one. Finally, it was just Paz and me. There are seven sections to the trials. You have to prove proficiency in strategic planning, reconnaissance, breaching physical/technological barriers, piloting, ranged weapons, bladed weapons, and finally hand-to-hand combat. Paz had scored higher in strategy, and both weapons tests, and I had beat him in reconn, breaching, and piloting. Hand-to-hand would decide it.”

“Did you have to fight each other?” Cara asked.

“Oh yeah. It had been a month since I had won a fight with him, and he knew he had the advantage. He was sure of his victory before the fight even started.”

“So he got sloppy and lost?”

“Nope. He kicked my ass.”

“Oooookay. I did not see that plot twist coming. So he scored higher than you overall?”

“Yes, he did. Imagine my surprise when Gar Saxon declared that I would be the youngest member of the elite Nameless unit and Paz Vizsla, the most promising student in the fighting corps, was going to be sent to the heavy infantry division.”

“ _ Heavy Infantry _ ?”

“Every Mandalorian is well trained, but heavy infantry is generally reserved for those who score the lowest on the intelligence spectrum. That wasn’t Paz. He had some anger issues, yeah. Hell, most of us did. But he was brilliant when it came to planning out ops. I got what I wanted, and the person I thought I hated most in the world was sent to the last place he wanted to be. I should have been happy about it. But I wasn’t. I didn’t earn that spot - it made my victory hollow.”

“I still don’t get why Saxon did it though. Just because Paz was a bastard?”

“It was deeper than that. The Saxon Clan had been part of House Vizsla for a long time. This was the first time one of their own was in a position of authority over the Vizsla family though. I think Gar did it more out of spite because he could.”

“Seriously? What a petty little bitch! Is Paz even a real Vizsla though? I thought his mom was the Vizsla.”

“Sometimes in clan marriages, whoever has the greater name recognition retains the title. So Paz’s stepfather took his wife’s name when he married her.”

“That’s got to make charting your genealogy super fun.”

Din chuckled, “Now you know why the Mandalorian registries have less than three hundred surnames. Foundlings are usually adopted into established clans, so they leave their old names behind them and take new ones. But when you become part of Nameless, you leave behind your old name and don’t take a new one at all. Every name you go by from that point on is either an alias or a nickname. Your armor stays on. Your helmet stays on. Your identity has to remain completely concealed. If anyone removes your helmet or learns who you were, you either have to kill them or leave the order.”

“Sounds familiar. So, let me guess - the exception to this rule is your immediate family?”

“No. No one. If you decide to have a family, you leave the order. Divided loyalties are not tolerated.”

“Well, shit. How do you deal with that?”

Din drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, “Some do it better than others. I liked it. I felt as though I had been cut loose from the chains my parent’s death had on me. I couldn’t punish those responsible for their deaths - but I could dole out swift justice on whoever I was assigned to deal with. They were all criminals, so there was no remorse to be felt over it - or so I told myself. It was a job. It was target practice. I thought it was fulfilling. I did it for seven years and never once felt like I had made the wrong choice - even if I still sometimes felt guilty about  _ how  _ I got the job in the first place.

But then I had a mission where I was following a mark to the Concord Dawn system. I was closing in on their ship, when some Mandalorian lancers dropped in and surrounded me. One of them hailed me and introduced himself as Fenn Rau, leader of the Protectors of Concord Dawn. He sort of gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse.

* * *

_ “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold. What’s it going to be?” Rau’s deep voice filled the cockpit, his tone even and confident, as that of a man completely assured that he held all the cards.  _

_ Din glared at the comm speaker, “Fine. Take me to your base and I’ll tell you what you need to know.” _

_ Laughably dishonest. Din could not reveal his own identity any more than the identity of his hit, much less the reasons for the hit, as he was not made privy to those. But there was no way he was going to break free of these Fang fighter pilots without getting shot down, even if he did have a ship that could match them - which he did not. The best he could manage was to accept their leader’s offer to “talk” and then hope he was lenient or that there would be an opportunity to escape later when the odds were more in his favor.  _

_ He allowed himself to be escorted to the surface of Concord Dawn’s third moon, setting down on one of two landing pads in the middle of a small settlement. The three ships that brought him in landed near the largest of the camp’s structures. The second pad was occupied by five other fighters, forcing him to squeeze in next to his entourage. Four smaller outbuildings flanked the docks, with more beyond them. The entire settlement was nestled into a shallow valley; the perimeter heavily guarded by at least four laser cannons. Cargo containers with the Imperial insignia stamped on their sides were stacked to the left of the landing pad. Din wasn’t going to jump to any conclusions about this group, just based on that. They might have made a deal with the Empire, or they might just as easily have stolen those goods.  _

_ He powered down his ship and lowered the ramp, unsurprised to see four Mandalorians wearing flight armor waiting outside with their weapons trained on him. He approached them slowly, his arms held away from his sides to indicate he had no plans to attack. The cockpit of the fighter nearest him popped open with a hiss, its pilot lightly springing to the ground. The man drew near, pulling his helmet off and tucking it under his arm. He was of average height and build, neither excessively muscled nor thin. His hair and ears were covered by a snug coif. The lines about his mouth indicated he was about forty. His face was unremarkable, with the exception of strikingly blue eyes that were currently fixed on Din.  _

_ “Your name?” he asked in a deep voice colored by a thick High Galactic accent.  _

_ “Mando,” was Din’s only reply. _

_ The other man narrowed his gaze, but simply replied, “Fenn Rau,” confirming he was the leader that Din had spoken to earlier. “What is your business in the Concord Dawn system?” _

_ “Like I said before - I’m tracking someone.” _

_ “Let me see the puck,” Rau demanded. _

_ “There is no puck,” Din answered, and that was the truth. _

_ “A high value target, then? Someone who needs to stay off the books. Who is your client?” _

_ “I’m not at liberty to discuss that.” _

_ “I see. So you are unable to give me your name, your target’s name, or your client’s name.” _

_ Din shrugged. _

_ “Very well, if and when you decide it’s in your best interest to be a little more forthcoming with me, we may continue this discussion. Until then, you will be held in our detentionary. Remove your helmet.” _

_ Din made no move to comply. When one of the men next to him reached for it, he dodged, batting his hand away. A second joined in, attempting to pin his arms down, but only ended up getting punched to the gut. _

_ “Stop!” Rau ordered. “You have been compliant thus far - why the sudden change? Is it the incarceration you object to or the demand to reveal your face?” _

_ “The latter,” Din responded.  _

_ “You’re Nameless, aren’t you?” _

_ Din’s lack of confirmation was confirmation in and of itself. Rau nodded his understanding. He folded his arms over his chest and studied his captive for a long moment. Reaching a hand up to rub the stubble that darkened his cheek and chin, he finally came to a decision. _

_ “You may keep the dignity of your helmet. I know the consequences to you if it’s removed. However, you will need to shed the rest of your armor. I have no wish to kill you or keep you here long, but I can’t just let you infiltrate Concord Dawn’s colony without knowing who you’re after. So long as your target is not under our protection, you will be free to go.” _

_ “And if they are?” Din asked. _

_ A dangerous smile lifted the corners of Rau’s mouth, “Then I’m afraid our amicable relationship will have to come to an end.” _

_ Now they knew where they stood with each other. Din wasn’t thrilled with the situation, but it could be worse. If he had resisted at any point thus far, Rau would have killed him. Still, the man seemed reasonable, and Din sensed he was honorable - a man of his word. He wasn’t sure how he was so certain of that, but he was. Perhaps another option for getting out of here would present itself. _

_ Din was escorted to one of the outbuildings and secured in a cell after removing the majority of his armor, save for the helmet. It had no targeting systems on it, only enhanced visual and auditory scanning. He activated the latter, straining to hear anything of note. Nearby, he detected Rau’s recognizable voice. _

_ “Because he’s more valuable alive. If he’s truly a member of Nameless, that means he takes his orders from Gar Saxon himself. And I, for one, am very interested in learning the identity of anyone that traitor wants eliminated.” _

_ “Suppose the target isn’t an enemy of Saxon, but of the Empire?” another masculine voice asked. _

_ “Make no mistake, they are one in the same. Saxon is the Empire. Their enemies are his enemies. I need that name.” _

_ “And if he doesn’t give it to you? How long do you want to keep one of Saxon’s elite hunters in custody? It will be dangerous if they come looking for him.” _

_ “I don’t think Nameless is in the habit of looking for lost operatives. But, I’m aware it’s a risk, Peyn. Our current understanding with Imperial forces should give us enough protection to warrant it.” _

_ “That’s just it. We have a deal with the Empire, so why are we trying so hard to find dirt on them? _

_Rau’s voice turned chilly, “We have a deal_ _so we can survive, nothing more. I do not accept Imperial rule over Mandalore. So long as spineless weasels like Saxon are in authority, Mandalore will have no chance of retaining its customs and identity. I don’t want to stand by and let our people become assimilated into the Empire. Out here, we have a better chance of retaining our heritage, but I want that for Mandalore as well. Saxon won’t be in power forever. Mandalore is still Mandalore, and the people will grow tired of taking handouts from a government they hate in return for cooperation. And when that day comes, the Protectors will be ready.”_

_ “Are you going to interrogate the prisoner?” _

_ “I don’t believe that will be necessary. Search his ship for any clues. I doubt he’ll be sloppy enough to leave anything we can use, but there’s no harm in having a look anyway.” _

_ Din weighed Rau’s words. He had been taken in by the Mandalorians when he had no one else. They had given him a home, a people, and taught him a trade. Not all Mandalorians practiced the same lifestyle, but Death Watch had instilled in him the belief that family is much more than just blood ties. Rau clearly had no love for Gar Saxon, but perhaps his ideology wasn’t so different from what Din was raised with. He was not familiar with the Protectors and their history, but he resolved to learn what he could while he was here.  _

_ The next morning, Rau came to Din’s cell bearing some breakfast rations. He strode to the far corner of the room and manually disconnected the security camera from its power source. After slipping the food between the bars, he stepped back about six feet and sat down on the floor, facing opposite so Din could remove his helmet and eat in privacy. _

_ “Thank you,” Din said. _

_ “It’s not a problem, the older man replied.  _

_ He waited patiently while Din finished his meal, never once asking him a single question. Din ate quickly and replaced his helmet. _

_ “I’m finished.” _

_ Rau stood and accepted the empty ration box that Din handed back to him. The man looked at him so closely with those sharp, blue eyes, Din almost felt as if he could see him through the visor. _

_ “Tell me about yourself,” Rau invited. “What you can, anyway. Were you born to Mandalore or adopted into it?” _

_ “Adopted,” Din allowed.  _

_ Rau nodded, “As was I, though I was so young, I don’t remember my birth parents at all.” _

_ “Who raised you?” Din asked. _

_ “A housecarle from Clan Kryze.” _

_ “Are you close with the family?” _

_ “I was.” _

_ “So you know Bo-Katan?” _

_ Something changed in Rau’s eyes, an emotion that Din couldn’t quite decipher. He narrowed them as if in anger, but there was a sense of sadness behind the look. He blinked, and the expression was gone. _

_ “Yes, I knew her. How did you two meet?” _

_ “I was found by Death Watch. They saved me from Separatist battle droids after my parents were killed. I didn’t know her well. She left after Pre died, which wasn’t that long after I was found.” _

_ “You are fortunate that you were found toward the end of their campaign of terror.” _

_ “Terror? Death Watch just wanted to restore the warrior heritage of the Mandalorian people.” _

_ “It wasn’t their cause that was the problem - it was their methods. They were terrorists. Pre’s vision for Mandalore was to go back to the old ways. But many of the people had had enough of the endless wars that tore us apart.” _

_ Rau leaned against the bars of Din’s cell, raising his hand to point out the small window at the back of the confined space, “Take a look out there - what do you see?” _

_ Din followed Rau’s line of vision and peered through the transperasteel. The pale outline of Concord Dawn’s shattered sphere was visible in the morning light, looking almost as if some titanic space creature had taken a large bite out of the planet. _

_ “Our proud warrior heritage did that,” Rau said. “I didn’t agree with Satine’s vision of total pacifism, but I understood how she came to the conclusion that it was the only answer for our people. Many agreed with her. Those who didn’t were banished. They felt they had only one way to express their views...and that was to eliminate the leaders who embraced the law of peace. Under Pre Vizsla, Death Watch killed civilians and politicians alike, partnering with anyone who would help them, no matter how sinister. They even allied themselves with Dooku and the very Separatists they saved you from later.” _

_ Din’s head snapped up, “Pre hated the Separatists. He would have never partnered with them.” _

_ “He hated them because they didn’t deliver on their promises to him. They agreed to help him take control of Mandalore if he used his people to murder Satine Kryze. He agreed. Bo-Katan was willing to kill her own sister, if it meant destroying her pacifist regime. But they failed to kill her and the Separatists withdrew their support. Pre found other allies to put him on the throne, but he double-crossed them and was killed for his efforts. That’s why Bo left. Not because she couldn’t stomach murdering her sister, but because an outsider killed her precious Vizsla commander.” _

_ As if suddenly realizing he had revealed more of himself than he intended, Rau clenched his teeth together, grinding them against each other.  _

_ Din wasn’t sure what to say. Rau hadn’t given him a reason not to trust him, but he didn’t want to believe what he was being told. He had been so young when all these things were happening, he hadn’t known what was going on behind the scenes. He never cared for the politics of war, in any case.  _

_ “Look, I know you have no reason to trust my word; but I’m not trying to trick you,” Rau continued. “Death Watch may have saved you, which tells me that not everyone in the group had forgotten how to conduct themselves. But the truth is, they abandoned the true way of the warrior in their efforts to restore that very way of life. A warrior should protect the weak, not seek to murder those who don’t have the means or the inclination to fight back. Satine’s vision may have been flawed. It may have collapsed in time. But instead of respecting the will of the people and protecting the throne, Pre led his people in yet another civil war. He won through deception, murder, and terror. He lacked honor.” _

_ “I don’t think you’re lying to me. It’s just hard to reconcile what you’re saying with the people who helped raise and train me. They were good people.” _

_ “And that’s the crux of it right there. When good people follow the wrong leader, they can end up losing who they are. It’s not as if everyone on the Kryze side of the conflict was in the right either. There was all sorts of corruption from within Satine’s government too. Prime Minister Almec was rotten to the core.” _

_ Din sighed, “This is why I don’t care about the politics. You tell me the people I was saved by were terrorists. But the throne you were loyal to was corrupt too. I’m a simple fighter. I do what I’ve been trained to do. I get a job, I do the job. I don’t ask questions.” _

_ Rau nodded, “It’s a simpler way of life, it’s true. But if you don’t ask questions, you’ll find yourself being used as a tool for evil men.” _

_ “Like Gar Saxon?” Din suggested. _

_ Rau raised an eyebrow at him, “I wondered if you were listening to that conversation.” _

_ “You didn’t really make an effort to hide it from me.” _

_ “I didn’t need to. I know what kind of man Gar Saxon is. Do you?” _

_ Din shrugged, “Whether or not I personally like him, he’s the boss. I don’t get a choice.” _

_ “We all have a choice,” Rau countered. _

_ “I’ve been trained to do one thing - hunt people. It’s my job. And I’m good at it.” _

_ “And what kind of people are you hunting? People who wish to see Mandalore delivered from the hands of the Empire?” _

_ “The same Empire you made a deal with?” Din pointed out. _

_ “That’s true. But there is a difference between making a deal to survive and actively helping the people you hate.” _

_ “From what I’ve seen, the Empire gets what it wants in the end. Your deal may be just tolerating Imperial traffic through Concord Dawn’s space today. But tomorrow they’ll be demanding more from you. And you’ll comply, because you want to live. You want your people to live. You may not like it, but that’s the reality we live in. I don’t like the Empire either, but it’s not going away. So I’m doing what I was trained to do. It doesn’t matter who I’m doing it for.” _

_ Rau drew a deep breath, letting it out with a huff, “You may be right. When you have a family to protect, ideals are a luxury you can’t always afford.” _

_ “Is your family here with you?” _

_ “My men are my family. I’ve trained them, served with them - hell, it feels like I raised half of them.” _

_ “How long have you been out here?” _

_ “I’ve been here since the Siege. Before that, I was serving the Republic in the Clone Wars. I trained their pilots and led my Skull Squadron as support.” _

_ “You trained clones?” _

_ “Yeah. Good men, all. Despite their genetic source material.” _

_ Din thought for a moment, trying to remember the name of the clone source, “You mean Fett?” _

_ “Indeed,” Rau’s voice took a sour note. _

_ “I take it you didn’t like him?” _

_ “Not particularly. Someone who has taken no oaths to Mandalore or sworn to live by our codes should not wear the armor. He never claimed to be one of us, but nor did he correct it when others assumed that to be the case. It smacks of stolen valor.” _

_ “I didn’t realize that he wasn’t Mandalorian. I’ve heard his son is living up to his father’s reputation as well.” _

_ “His clone, you mean,” Rau corrected. _

_ “What?” _

_ “Boba Fett was from the first batch they made, but he was unaltered. They didn’t enhance him or speed up his growth like they did with the others. He is the closest copy of Jango Fett alive today.” _

_ “Huh. So what was it like working for the Republic?” _

_ Rau furrowed his eyebrows, “I enjoyed it while it lasted. It seemed we were on the verge of winning. Funny how the tides of war can change in an instant.” _

_ “The Republic did win against the Separatists, though.” _

_ “No. The Empire defeated the Separatists - if you could even call it a defeat. Three years. Millions of clones, dead. Countless civilian casualties. And for what? The Empire that replaced the Republic was worse than the CIS,” Rau growled bitterly. “But enough of the past. The Clone Wars are over, and I’m sure you’re just as anxious as I am to see them behind you.” _

_ Din turned thoughtful, “Yeah. Not a lot of fond memories for me, either. But it set me on my path, so I guess I can’t complain too much.” _

_ “Do you enjoy the path you’re on - working as Nameless?” Rau questioned.  _

_ “It’s a good living. I get paid to hunt down criminals - without having to deal with the paperwork of law enforcement or the corruption of trials.” _

_ “Are you sure it’s only criminals you’re hunting?” _

_ “That is generally why the Empire puts them on the wanted lists,” Din countered. _

_ “True. But which Imperial laws are the criminals not adhering to?” _

_ “Like I said, I don’t ask questions. I do my job and I bring in my targets, dead or alive.” _

_ “Judge, jury, and executioner.” _

_ “That’s the idea.” _

_ “And the person you’re after now? Are they wanted dead or alive?” _

_ “Dead,” Din answered. _

_ “Where are they from?” _

_ “I cannot give you that information, Rau.” _

_ “And I can’t let you leave here and murder one of the colonists under my protection.” _

_ “You made a deal with the Empire. If one of your colonists has done something bad enough to earn themselves a hit request, the powers that be will not look kindly on your ‘protectors’ interference.” _

_ “Maybe so, but my duty is to my people first, not the Empire; something your boss, Gar Saxon, would not understand.” _

_ “I can’t give you any information on the hit, Rau. Someone like you ought to understand the codes that I’m bound by.” _

_ Rau made a sound of agreement, “I do understand. And that is the only reason I’m keeping you alive instead of disposing of you right now. We all have our loyalties, Mando. What you need to decide is who yours are to: Gar Saxon, who is merely a proxy of the Empire, or Mandalore. I’ll give you some time to think about it.” _

_ He pushed his shoulder off the bars, collecting Din’s empty ration box before leaving.  _

_ That was the first of many discussions Din had with the leader of the Protectors. Rau brought him his morning meal nearly every day, and the two men never seemed to run out of subjects to talk about. Din wasn’t sure what brought him back so frequently. Perhaps he was trying to establish a rapport with him as a tactic to gain information. Maybe he was bored. It was possible that Rau simply enjoyed his company, but that seemed unlikely. In any case, Din’s first impressions of Rau seemed accurate. The man was truly honorable, and his knowledge of Mandalore’s history helped Din to understand his adopted people more deeply. Being raised in the fighting corps had taught Din the skills he needed to become a Mandalorian warrior worthy of his armor, but it had offered little in the way of formal education.  _

_ The more Din learned of Fenn and his Protectors, the more he began to question where he belonged. Contrasting to the prejudiced and often petty behavior of the clans families on Mandalore, the Protectors were not loyal to any particular House. Their membership consisted of elite warriors from every clan and their training helped solidify them as a single unit. Their loyalty had been solely to the throne of Mandalore, but since the Empire had assumed control of the system, they had pulled back to the Concord Dawn system, serving the diaspora of colonists who still called the ruined planet home. _

_ Din found himself opening up about his past, even discussing what he remembered of his life before he was taken by Death Watch. In turn, Fenn shared personal stories about his youth growing up with the Kryze family, how he first became a Protector, and even recalled some of his exploits during the Clone Wars. His perspective on the clones themselves fascinated Din. Fenn and his Fang Squadron had served the Republic faithfully in both the training and battlefield, but he had become disenchanted over time by their treatment of the clone army. They were well trained and engineered to be completely loyal - but little effort was made to reduce their losses. They were treated as expendable. Worse, they were unpaid for their services. In an ultimate twist of irony, the Republic, which took the moral and legal stance that slavery was an abomination, fought for its territory using an unpaid clone army that was legally the property of the government.  _

_ The more Din learned of the politics of the galaxy, the more he became averse to them. Hypocrisy was rampant within the system. How could one be loyal to anything or anyone when corruption was everywhere, in every faction? It was as if a darkness had descended on the galaxy, one that permeated every system of planets and every culture. Fenn and his people were not immune to it, having struck a deal with the Empire themselves, but it had been solely for survival that they had capitulated, knowing that it was the only way to affect greater good for the Mandalorian people they served. _

_ Time and again, Din considered giving up the information that would see him freed. His weeks of confinement had left him restless, but it had also given him time to think. He realized now that there was far more to the Mandalorian people than just what he grew up knowing. They weren’t a race, but a creed, whose followers were spread out across a whole sector. The longer he stayed with the Protectors, even as a prisoner, the more he wondered if Nameless was truly what he wanted to be. _

_ Even so, there was no place for him here with Fenn’s men. Several of the lieutenants were growing impatient with Rau’s treatment of Din. He had said in the beginning that he didn’t want to keep Din detained for a lengthy amount of time, but the days had stretched into weeks and the weeks into months. Fenn needed to make a decision about his prisoner: kill him, or set him free. But to set him free, Din must renounce his loyalty to Nameless and drop his target. _

_ As tempting as it was, Din could not bring himself to let go of that which he had strived so hard to attain. He had been greatly influenced by his many discussions with Fenn Rau, but he had nowhere else to go. Fenn could not accept him as a member of the Protectors with his connections to Death Watch and Gar Saxon being what they were. Even if they had been willing to take him in, he didn’t think he could bring himself to break his oaths to Nameless. Fenn understood this better than the others, but he could not release Din without losing the respect of his men. Despite the mutual respect between the two of them, they were both trapped in a no-win situation. _

_ One evening, three months after Din had been captured, Fenn made a surprise visit to him late at night, a large sack slung over his shoulder. Din scrambled to his feet, wondering what could have brought him here at this hour. Keeping to the shadows, Fenn stayed out of the scope of the cameras in the room, which were mostly trained on the cell. He disabled them as he did whenever Din needed to eat or shave.  _

_ “What are you doing?” Din asked quietly. _

_ Stepping into the dim light afforded by the window in his cell, Fenn quietly emptied the bag of its contents: Din’s armor. He produced a key card and unlocked the cell, taking pains to open it without a sound. _

_ “You have a nine minute window to get to your ship and get it out of here,” Rau whispered. “I recommend plotting a short hyperspace jump before heading back to Mandalore.” _

_ “Why are you doing this, Rau?” _

_ “Because I like you, kid. But I can’t keep you here any longer. You escaping is the only way this can work.” _

_ “How do you know I’m not just going to head to Concord Dawn?” _

_ “One: that would be suicide and you know it. Two: You don’t even know if your target is still there. Nah, you’ll head back to Saxon, if you’re smart. And if you’re really smart, you’ll make up a story for why you were missing for three months that does not involve my name. Got it?” _

_ Din finished securing his armor and stood up, meeting the Protector’s eyes. Why did he feel like he was leaving a friend? He wasn’t ready for this; he needed time to prepare. But there wasn’t any. He hesitated, unsure how to say goodbye. Though Din was not a man given to displays of affection, he found himself seized by the sudden impulse to hug the other man. He wouldn’t do that, of course - so he stood there awkwardly, racking his brain for words that made sense, given the strange nature of their relationship. Rau seemed to sense his thoughts and reached his hand up to where Din’s shoulder met his neck, giving him a firm squeeze.  _

_ “Take care of yourself, Mando. I’ve enjoyed our talks.” _

_ “Yeah, me too,” Din admitted. “Goodbye, Rau. Thank you - for everything.” _

_ Fenn inclined his head, keeping his eyes on Din, “Do yourself a favor, son. When you go back - find something worth fighting for besides Nameless. Even if you’re not ready to let go of them yet.” _

_ “I will,” he replied.  _

_ Fenn gripped his shoulder tighter, turning him toward the door and giving him a light shove, “Now get out of here. And don’t get yourself caught.” _

* * *

“Sounds like he risked a lot letting you go,” Cara said quietly.

Din surfaced from memories he hadn’t examined in years, wondering just how much those three months as Rau’s prisoner had impacted him. If things hadn’t happened the way that they did, he might have tried to join the Protectors later.

“Yeah. He was risking more than his position by turning me loose. I still don’t know why he did it.”

“He told you. He liked you. Is it so hard to believe that you’re a likeable person?”

“Even if he did like me, he loved his men. Setting me free might have compromised them.”

“It sounds like he trusted you enough to know you wouldn’t do that. Did you ever see him again?”

“No,” Din replied. “Regretfully. I did go back to that outpost once - to look for survivors after the Purge, but it had been attacked and abandoned. From the look of it though, it had been other Mandalorians who attacked, not the Empire. Who knows what happened to Fenn. If he survived, he probably swore his loyalty to Bo-Katan when she became the last Manda’lore. They had history together.”

“Ooh, what kind of history?” Cara asked, quirking a suggestive eyebrow.

“The long and complicated kind. I’ll tell you what he told me sometime, but if we plan on getting any sleep tonight, I need to finish  _ my  _ story.”

“Fair enough. So what happened next? Did you go back to Saxon?”

“Yeah. The trail was certainly cold on the person I had been tasked to find, so I went back to Mandalore with a story that I had been stranded on a moon with a broken transponder for three months. I don’t know if Saxon believed me or not, but he was most displeased I had lost my mark. Apparently, that person was a high value rebel organizer, known only as Fulcrum.”

“Fulcrum?! You were sent after Fulcrum?”

“You know who that is? I didn’t have much information on her. Just that she was a togruta female and considered very dangerous.”

“Sweetheart, if you ever see Fenn Rau again, you ought to fall on your knees and thank him - because him capturing you is the only reason you are still alive.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he muttered.

“I’m not doubting your abilities. But she was in a class all her own. I heard she had once been a Jedi apprentice.”

“Another Jedi? I still don’t get how I managed to get this old without knowing anything about these people.”

Cara shrugged against him, “The Empire dedicated a lot of resources to wiping the memory of the Jedi out of existence.”

“Yes, but for them to have succeeded as much as they did in less than one generation is terrifying.”

“I agree. I’m glad that Riddick and others are taking pains to restore recorded history to what it ought to be. But we’re getting off topic again. What happened when you told Saxon you lost Fulcrum?”

Din was silent for a moment, and when he finally squeezed the words past his constricted throat, the bitterness he felt over that fifteen-year-old wrong was still evident in his voice, “I was dismissed from Nameless. I’d given them eight years of my life. I had never lost a mark. Maybe Saxon figured out I was lying, but he never let on one way or the other. Everything I had spent my entire life working towards was snatched from me in an instant. For a long time, I directed my anger at Rau. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have lost my place of honor. I was pissed at Saxon too, but I knew what kind of man he was - I expected it from him. Anyway, I left.”

“Left where?”

“Left Mandalore. I walked away from everything and everyone I knew. I was still Mandalorian, but I had no ties to anyone or anything. I knew no other way to live other than what I had been taught. I still kept my helmet on in front of others. I never reclaimed the name I had left behind. I was following the Way that had been drilled into me, but there was no point or purpose to it - it was just habit.

Eventually, I fell in with a mercenary crew run by a thug named Ranzar Malk. I was twenty-five years old. Angry. Bitter. Lost. I did whatever job they asked of me, no questions asked. Theft. Prison-breaks. Guarding smuggling runs. Putting down local resistance for whatever crime boss hired us. I did things, Cara…” his voice trailed off, and he reached up and clenched a fistful of the hair that had fallen across his brow. 

“Din,” she whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek. “It’s okay.”

“No, that’s just it. It’s  _ not  _ okay. I murdered people, Cara. I mean, I killed people for Nameless too, but I could always justify that because it was government sanctioned work. These were innocent people, just trying to live their lives. Men, women, some of them barely more than kids. It wasn’t just collateral damage - we targeted them and executed them. I was merciless. I kept telling myself I was numb to it. It was just business. It wasn’t personal. 

I lied to myself for three years, but all that time Rau’s words kept on repeating in the back of my head. ‘Find something worth fighting for’. My anger toward him had mostly dissipated by then and I began to think maybe it was time to go back to Mandalore. I had been hearing things for several months that interested me. Gar Saxon and his brother had been killed. Bo-Katan Kryze now wielded the Darksaber and had declared herself Manda’lore and had the backing of both House Kryze and House Vizsla. Such a coalition had not happened in ages. 

Then, news that the Empire had deployed a portion of their fleet to eradicate the Mandalorian people reached us. I left Malk’s crew right away to search for survivors. They had a blockade set up around the planet, but after a few weeks of probing it, I managed to find an opening. The destruction was total. Every single city had been blasted wide open. After they striped whatever resources they could find, they turned the very air into poison. The dioxins that they pumped into the atmosphere gave me enough cover to search the surface, but the whole planet was a graveyard, as was Concordia and Kalevala.

I went to Concord Dawn to look for Rau next, but the colony was the same as Mandalore and his moon base was long since deserted. I went to Krownest to see if anyone from clan Wren survived, but it was more of the same. Phindar too. I searched outposts, old bolt-holes, supply caches, anyplace I could think of. They were all gone - either dead or in hiding. 

I didn’t stop looking, though. There were too many Mandalorians spread across too many systems for them to have gotten them all, I don’t care how good their intel was. I searched for seven months before I discovered a Mandalorian transport ship hiding in an asteroid belt. There was a hideout built into one of the larger rocks. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified when I found thirty people under Paz Vizsla’s care. He didn’t seem to hold a grudge though. I found out that he had been made one of Bo-Katan’s Protectors before The Purge and he had been tasked to get them to safety when word reached them that an attack was imminent. They had been surviving on that base for a few months. Paz and the other leaders were trying to find a place to relocate, since they had used up most of their rations. 

For a little while, I ran food and supplies while I was scouting new locations for them. But my credits were running low and I needed to find work. I went to Nevarro to look into the bounty hunter’s guild. Greef Kargo gave me the details on how to join. I did some scouting around the city and discovered the catacombs. I took the news back to the survivors and they agreed to come to Nevarro. It took a few trips to smuggle them all onto the planet, but we eventually managed to get them all settled. 

There was a woman among them who had distinguished herself from the others. She was a skilled armorer, and she only ever called herself the Smith. The others had recently made her their leader, despite the fact that she hadn’t revealed her face to anyone since they had been driven off Mandalore. I was surprised to find out that Paz had done the same. That behavior wasn’t really common outside of Nameless - most Mandalorian warriors took off their helmets and armor whenever they pleased. But the Smith had argued that secrecy was their greatest weapon now. Until the Mandalorian people were strong enough to retake their home, they needed to keep themselves hidden, even from each other. 

It was how I had lived for ten years, so it made sense to me. Everyone dropped their surnames and went either by a pseudonym or just their first name. Of course, some of us already knew each other, but that was unavoidable. Smith also put forth the idea that only one of us should be free to move about freely, so as not to attract attention. It was agreed that all the younger, unmarried individuals in the group would put their names in a drawing. No one who was a senior member, part of the leadership, or had a rare tradeskill could enter. My name was chosen, and that’s how I became a bounty hunter.”

“Interesting. And the entire Tribe has lived underground the whole time, never sharing their names or showing their faces?”

“Not unless it’s to an immediate family member.”

“Wow. That’s crazy.”

“It tested the sanity of a few of them, that’s for sure. But eventually, the catacombs came to be home. We’ve been there ever since. I located a few stragglers along the way while I was out chasing bounties and brought some of them back. Including one man I met who went by the name Alric Rook.”

“Boba Fett.”

“Boba Fett,” Din confirmed, trying to keep the trembling out of his voice - but rage and regret were vying for dominance inside his heart and mind. “Do you know what the worst part is?”

“Hmm?”

“I really liked him. He had a sense of humor that meshed well with mine. He claimed to be another bounty hunter - which wasn’t a lie, I guess. He helped me finish out the job I was doing and we split the reward down the middle. We made a great team, without even trying. We spent a week together hunting down this sleemo who escaped prison - a real piece of work. He was wanted dead or alive. When Rook - Fett - saw what he was wanted for, we both agreed we would bring him in cold, whether or not he surrendered. 

When I brought him to The Tribe, I asked Smith if she would consider letting him be my partner, if he agreed to stay, since he had been in the open all this time anyway. She thought it would be a good idea. I remember feeling kind of excited about it. Bounty hunting is a lonely career, which never used to bother me before. But having another person to back me up on the job and swap stories in the down time was kind of...fun. I didn’t know him that well - obviously - but I already thought of him as a friend. 

So when I came back from another hunt and I found out he had decided not to stay, it was disappointing. Knowing that he was lying to me all along - I wonder if I missed something. If I hadn’t warmed up to him so quickly and had done my job to vette him properly before I brought him to the covert, they might all still be alive.”

“Din, stop. You can’t do this to yourself,” Cara broke in, propping herself up to look at him more closely. “What happened to your people is not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

“Paz knew. He asked questions about Rook’s past. Questions Fett couldn’t answer.”

“Paz also spent his entire life on Mandalore and was a member of one the most prominent Houses. I’m sure he knew quite a few Rooks and he would know what questions to ask and how to detect lies.”

“I should have dug deeper, I should have --” he stopped, unwilling to venture down the dark path his thoughts were taking him. 

If he shouldered any more of the burden, he would crack under the weight of the guilt. Fett was the one who ratted them out and Gideon was the one who had killed them. But no matter how many times he told himself he wasn’t to blame, he still had to deal with the fact that he was all that was left of the Tribe - and maybe the last Mandalorian. His brothers and sisters were gone, the only question now, whether or not he could have done anything to prevent it. And the answer to that was, of course, yes. 

His vision blurred as he stared at the underside of Cara’s shelving. He threw an arm over his face and inhaled slowly, trying to keep the quiver out of his chin. Cara was still propped up on her elbow on the pillow next to him. She resumed her earlier occupation of rubbing small circles against his chest. Her touch was a welcome distraction from the pain welling up inside him. It also reminded him that he wasn’t alone. His tribe may be gone, but he still had someone here who cared for him. If she hadn’t decided that his past was too checkered for her to stay, that is. 

As if in response to that unspoken question, she gently pried his arm up from his eyes, leaning over him with a look of patience and knowing. She knew what it felt like to be the one left behind. She knew what it felt like to experience guilt over being the one who survived. She knew what it felt like to have everything ripped away. And therein lay his hope. Because, she had been through all that, and here she was. She was alive. She was whole. She was loved. 

Oh, how she was loved.

His hand found its way into her hair, but before he could even begin to tug her toward him, her mouth crashed into his with a ferocity that surprised him. She wasn’t trying to comfort him now with sweet touches and soothing words. She was distracting him. But more than that, her kiss was like a shock to a dead heart. His pulse quickened. Blood coursed to every extremity. His whole body felt like it was on fire. He was alive. He was whole. He was loved. 

But she was just getting started. Her lips didn’t stop moving for a second as she pressed rapid kisses to his - nipping him whenever the impulse seized her. Barely recalling the boundaries they had set for themselves earlier that night, his hand free hand reluctantly passed over the curve of her bottom to grip her side, finding his favorite spot on her hip bone and pressing it with his thumb. She bucked against him a little and he couldn’t catch back the groan that escaped him. She scooted a little higher, forcing him to tip his chin up to maintain contact with her mouth. Her thick hair fell like a curtain around their faces, its intoxicating scent driving him half mad. 

She mercifully stopped her attempts to devour him, slowing her movements to a more tender pace. She pressed soft kisses to his forehead, cheeks, nose, and chin. Finally, she pulled back, and there was no mistaking the adoration in her deep brown eyes. He stared back at her in wonder.

“Did you think I was going to listen to all that and have second thoughts about marrying you?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.”

She smiled and shook her head, “Sorry, Mando - you’re stuck with me.”

He smirked at her use of his nickname, “You sure?”

She laughed, the sound of it musical to his ears, “Quite sure.” Her face became more serious, but there was still a light in her eyes when she told him, “I know you’ve done things that you are not proud of. So have I. But the fact that you are telling me about them, and letting me make a decision based on the whole truth of you, is proof enough that I made the right choice. I told you - there is nothing you could tell me about the man you  _ were  _ that will make me turn away from the man you  _ are _ .”

She tucked down beside him, nuzzling her cheek against the column of his neck. He held her against him, stroking the back of her arm with his fingertips. He had not expected her to renege on her vow to him, but hearing her say it out loud gave him a sense of peace that he shouldn’t have been able to experience, given the tumult of his emotions. Perhaps it was just the euphoria of the moment, knowing that she loved him and would stand by him, that allowed him to set aside his grief and his guilt for the moment. But it felt more permanent than that. 

_ “Find something worth fighting for.”  _ Rau’s words echoed in his mind once more.

He had finally kept his promise. He had lost so much, and yet, his cup was full. Cara and the baby were responsible for that. Even Kuiil and IG-11 were a part of it. Did she realize how much she meant to him? Could he even put it into words that made sense? Fatigue was beginning to wear him down, making his eyes heavy and his mind sluggish, but he was determined to try and put his feelings into words. 

“In the last six months, I’ve lost everything I ever held dear. My home. My place in the guild. My reputation. And now my people - my whole identity. But it’s strange. I’m grieved for my people and by the part I played in their deaths,” he paused, trying to find the right term for how he felt. “But I’m not lost. All the things that I thought mattered the most, I’ve found I can live without. And the one thing I can’t live without, I haven’t really lost at all.”

“What’s that?” she asked, raising her head once more to peer at him closely.

“Family. You. Our son.”

He saw her eyes widen at those last words and knew she was pleased by them. He drew her close and captured her mouth, moving slowly and with deliberation. He wasn’t sure if he was any good at this whole kissing thing yet, but he was definitely enjoying the practice. Her lips were exquisitely soft and pliable under his, and she let him set the pace on his own. He was absolutely content with her at this moment. Sleep was pulling him under, but he didn’t want to stop. His movements slowed, and he finally surrendered to oblivion, though he had not yet released her mouth. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got this done! I was waiting for the finale of The Clone Wars to air before I wrote this, because there were some pertinent details of Din's backstory that I needed to make sure lined up with canon. Of course, then I was miserable because Filoni somehow made Order 66 SO MUCH WORSE. So I spent the last two weeks rewatching The Clone Wars from the beginning, because why not just go back and fall in love with all those sweet little Fett clones so the ending hurts that much more? Jesse, why? 
> 
> Ahem, anyhoo. Din's backstory, as promised. I know I kind of skipped over the time period between meeting Alric Rook and finding Bean, but nothing of note really happened during those last few years. I will summarize it as follows: he was a lonely bounty hunter, robbed of the chance to work with his would-be best pal, Alric Rook. They would have been the most unstoppable bounty hunting team in the galaxy, wouldn't they? Apparently, I'm learning from Filoni - I'm just going to dangle the possibility of this awesome good guy/somewhat bad guy team-up and then snatch it away. *cough* Maul and Ahsoka *cough* (God bless the broken road that led him straight to Cara). And then, one fateful day, Din took a job for a super creepy old man, and saved a tiny green alien. There, now everyone is caught up.


End file.
